


In Sheep's Clothing

by Ecanus



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - GTA, Fake AH Crew, GTA AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 02:34:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2411789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ecanus/pseuds/Ecanus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Gavin who first sees behind the mask.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Sheep's Clothing

It’s Gavin who first sees behind the mask.

It’s during an operation—not a heist; it’s something more personal. Fed up with Ramsey’s business success, a rival company decided to get their hands down in the dirt and hired a gang—more likely a group of rookie outlaws—to sabotage some of Geoff’s assets. It left no more than a small scratch in his stocks, but that’s not the point. The point is, they breached a line that should not be crossed.

And one does not step on the Crew’s territory without getting bit.

'Rookie' is not an assumption. The fact that proves it? Their lack of clean up. Ramsey's private forensics and research unit—comprised of only a few experts that the rest of the company barely even knows exist—gets to collecting the evidence and hands the crucial leads to the Big Man himself, before the LSPD or any court of law can get their hands on it.

There are two crucial items—a blood sample, and a still from a camera that caught the license plate of one of their getaway vehicles. The plate number is a long shot, but the sample identifies one of the perpetrators as a member of a notorious gang that Fake AH had exterminated about four months back. If they were trying to get back together, they were finding the wrong people to do it.

The assumption is justified further by the fact that, when they go searching through the district of South Los Santos near where the old gang had once stationed itself, they find a car sporting the license plate from the photo parked behind an abandoned office building.

Upon closer inspection, they find it’s now occupied. They must have set up base some time ago too, because a look through Ray’s scope reveals a network of security cameras. Only the windows displaying the halls can be seen through. The rest have been boarded up with just the slimmest of cracks in between the thick planks—for gun barrels, probably.

The planning is quick.

They don’t know what they’re holding in the building, but they’ll take what they can carry. What they’re most certain of is the blackmail their cameras promise. Where they keep the main system is a mystery, up until Ryan produces the blueprints for the building. No one asks how he got it. They save the questions for later, instead listening while Ryan provides some insight on the structure of what apparently once belonged to an insurance firm that fell through. He points out their best bet for the network’s source—a small room on the fourth floor.

So that’s the primary objective: Get in, grab the files, get out.

At least, that’s what Geoff tells them.

——————————

The evening starts with a bang. Quite literally. At the front of the building, a bomb that Michael had rolled under one of the group’s vehicles erupts, lifting the tires right off the ground as the sound of crunching metal and explosive power fills the empty streets. Three that had been on patrol—or smoke break—turn to the source, only to see another grenade lobbed in their direction.

“You see me now, motherfuckers?” Michael yells, pushing his chest forward for an instant to get the momentum to swing the rifle strapped to his back in to his hands. He fires from his cover behind a rolled out dumpster, taking out one of the men as he rolls away from the erupting bomb, two of Michael’s rounds drilling through his torso. The other two evade the explosion, but as one pulls out her gun to fire back, a .300 Winchester bullet pierces her skull. The cartridge releases a whiff of gunpowder as it falls from the chamber of Ray’s sniper rifle, clattering on the roof where he stands, three buildings behind Michael. The ladder beside him leads to an alley where Jack waits, ready to burn rubber if they need to escape.

They’re Team Bravo for this operation. Their instructions: Make some noise.

Attracting as much attention as they can from the gang is the goal—to lure them in to the street and have them focus on Bravo is crucial. They’re the decoy. The bait seems to work, too, because the third one has taken out their handheld radio and very clearly announced that they need some backup out front. They haven’t even finished speaking when reinforcements come flooding out the doors, more likely from the sounds of the scuffle than the call for help. Michael doesn’t budge yet, though—he needs to stand his ground to lure more of them outside. He lobs another grenade over the dumpster as the group is raising their weapons. Ray follows with a shot before the explosive hits the ground, the sound of the bullet penetrating another skull swallowed by the cacophony of gunfire that quickly takes over the street.

The gang war is now in full swing.

This is Alpha’s cue.

“Bloody heck, how do you wear that all the time, Ryan?” Gavin. He’s got his face all scrunched up as he runs an index finger under the uncomfortably tight strap on the back of his head. Said strap holds a dark mask over his face. It’s not as though it’s the first time he’s worn a mask, though he seems to make it a point to complain every time he puts one on. It’s necessary, though—if things go awry and they don’t get to the cameras, they’d rather their faces not be on the footage.

If all goes as planned though, well, Gavin will take care of it.

The whole mask deal isn’t a problem for Ryan—his face is still unknown to his own Crew. He speaks after a moment, quiet so as not to get their asses busted; they’re in the alley behind the structure, waiting for the signal. “The _why_ answers the _how_ , really. You’re asking the wrong question.”

“Okay,” Gavin says. Pause. Waiting for Ryan to continue. He doesn’t. “… Were you going to share why?”

“Nah.”

Gavin nods once. “Right. Got it.”

Never that easy with Ryan. It’s for that reason that he’s somewhat hesitant working with the guy, even after all this time. Though he’s shown many times that he’s valuable to the Crew, he’s still something of an enigma to all of them. They know virtually nothing about him aside from a name they can’t be sure is actually his. There is no face to put to it. Just eyes, peering through the hollow sockets of a skull.

If only, Gavin thinks. If only they could see behind that damn mask, they might get some answers. Though part of him isn’t sure he wants to see. Ryan might actually kill him.

“Alright, boys,” Geoff, finally. His voice comes through Gavin’s radio on a private channel separate from Bravo’s, transmitted from their Kingpin’s safe place in a van a block down the adjacent road. “Jack says they’ve got their attention. You know what to do.”

“Sweet. Moving in.”

These are Alpha’s instructions: Sneak in while they’re distracted, take the staircase straight up to the fourth floor, and get to the room where—hopefully—all the gang’s camera equipment is stored. If not, Ryan knows where to look next. Copy all possible footage and get out. Eliminate threats quietly.

That is, at least, what was declared while all were present.

These are Alpha’s unfiltered instructions: Sneak in while they’re distracted, take the staircase straight up to the fourth floor, and get to the room where—hopefully—all the gang’s camera equipment is stored. If not, Ryan knows where to look next. Copy all possible footage, then reprogram the system to provide live feeds to Geoff’s device. Edit the footage during the operation for identity protection and get out. Eliminate threats quietly.

The difference is crucial, and one which Bravo is not informed of. The reason is simple: They don’t know what Gavin can do. Only Geoff and Ryan know that Gavin’s tech work transcends ordinary application. It should only be Geoff who knows, really, but Ryan pinned down his skill with what he claims is ‘simple deduction work’, though no one else has figured it out.

Gavin knows the ins and outs of computer software—so much so that he can, in fact, destroy the Crew if he saw fit. He’s the primary reason that any of them have yet to receive jail time. He’s the reason they always have access to intel on the best places to strike. Geoff claims he has a ‘tech guy’ behind the scenes that doesn’t want to be directly involved with gang business, when, in actuality, the man himself has been in front of them this whole time.

It’s not that Geoff doesn’t trust his Crew. It’s a security measure. The less people know about what Gavin can do, the less likely the man holding every dirty secret on them will be put in harms way. Simple as that.

Alpha proceeds with caution. After all, Ryan suggested the very real possibility that this entire situation could be a setup. Even with all the people out front, they might have reinforcements waiting for them inside. It’s not evident when they get inside, though. They don’t encounter their first threat until they reach the top of the staircase leading to the second floor, and he is easily dispatched with a single bullet from a silenced pistol while still wiping the surprise from his face.

Despite the occupancy, the building still carries a mustiness and feel of abandonment in the air, though the smell of cigarettes and copper mingle with the dust. The gunfire from the street echoes through the structure; it’s hard to discern between which sounds are within the building or outside.

Regardless, they get to the fourth floor in just under a minute. To Ryan’s credit, the room they enter contains what they’re looking for—a plethora of old flickering computer monitors takes up the space of the far corner, cables strewn about under the wheels of the chair pushed in to the desk and disappearing in to holes in the walls, where they extend to connect to the cameras throughout the base.

Ryan is hiding a body in the other room as Gavin takes a seat, placing his pistol on the counter. He slaps his gloved hands together and rubs his palms in the classic fashion of someone about to stir up some shit.

“Alright, what do we got here?” Gavin mutters to himself, eyeing the main monitor as he moves the mouse and clicks away at the keyboard. After a moment, he reaches in to the pack he’d brought and retrieves a hard drive, plugging it in to the appropriate USB slot.

“How’s it going?”

Gavin jumps in his seat with a nearly audible squawk and instinctively reaches for his pistol, swiveling around to face the intruder and aiming. Ryan doesn’t budge.

“ _Jesus_ , Ryan! You don’t gotta be all sneaky like that, goddamn. Scare the piss out of me.”

Gavin returns his attention to the monitor, heart halfway up his windpipe as Ryan steps closer. “You’re lucky it was me.”

“You’re lucky you don’t have a bullet in your sss _tupid_ face.”

“ _Accusations._ ”

“Well I don’t have evidence proving otherwise, do I?”

Though all he hears is a scoff behind from behind him, Gavin swears there are eyes boring in to his back.

He clears is throat and pulls out his transceiver. “Alright, Geoff, we’re here.”

Geoff responds immediately. “Good. Okay, how’s it going? Bravo’s having some trouble holding their ground, so make it quick.”

“Smooth as butter here. They’ve got a basic security system setup. I’m already in and transferring. Looks like they only got this up and running about two weeks ago.” A window on the screen blinks to alert Gavin of the transfer’s completion. “Ah, there we are. Get ready, yeah?”

They complete the rest as quickly as possible. Ryan watches the door as Gavin communicates with Geoff. The entire process takes approximately five minutes. When they’re done, Geoff has access to every camera in the building from a single tablet. Additionally, anything recorded since the start of the operation has been deleted from their files, and any footage from here on will only be saved to Geoff’s device. Gavin’s set the monitors to replay footage from a few hours ago, in hopes of making it seem like someone was reviewing old files and forgot to reset the system to record. When they discover problems, they will be able to fix it, but Geoff’s connection is untraceable.

“See? This is why I keep you around, Gavino.”

Gavin packs everything away, raising the transceiver to his mouth once more while he pushes his mask up on to his head to grin widely at the camera where he’s sure Geoff is spying. “Not for my boyish charm?”

“Don’t push it. Now get the hell out of there. I don’t think Bravo can hold them off for much longer.”

“Right.” He pushes the mask back down, sliding the pack on and turning to Ryan, who is already peaking out the door with his pistol. “Can you do a little spy work for us, Geoff?”

“Yeah, you’re clear. Just head down the stairs you came.”

They follow as prompted, though with their pistols loaded and ready in their hands. If Bravo is having trouble holding their ground, they’re probably keeping most of their defenses on base. At any moment, they could—

“Shit, hold on. Get in the room to your left. They just came up both sets of stairs.”

Damn.

They follow Geoff’s instructions, sliding as quietly as possible in to the open room. The cracks of evening light coming in through the boarded up window is enough for them to see, but it’s difficult.

They’re cornered.

Not a problem, though. As Gavin turns a desk over for cover, Ryan pulls out a trigger for a bomb, hiding himself behind a crevice in the wall at the opposite end of the fairly spacious room. He’d planned for this before they’d even gotten to the camera room. Always solving loopholes no one else can see.

Apparently they weren’t quiet enough. They hear whispers and hesitant footsteps approaching. Somebody reloading a rifle.

They sound close. Gavin looks over at Ryan, who’s concentrating on the door. He tries to signal to him to set off the bomb on the ceiling just outside. Ryan doesn’t notice, or just doesn’t acknowledge him. He frowns and waves his arms while mouthing ‘blow it!’, not even caring that the mask obscures his mouth. Really, he should probably just let the man do his job, but he insists anyway. They sound close enough that the explosion should take them out.

Finally, Ryan looks.

And it is in that moment that one of the men outside decides to roll a grenade in to the room.

It’s Gavin who spots it, and too late. He ceases his antics immediately, dread and panic seizing him as he realizes that Ryan has no cover.

“Bomb!” he yells, completely discarding stealth at that point. He sees Ryan notice the grenade as he takes cover behind the desk. Hears the click of a trigger. Feels the force of the blast as both explosives go off simultaneously.

“Fuck!” Gavin hears over the chaos, and for a moment he thinks it’s one of the injured men outside. No, it’s from inside the room. From Ryan. As the dust settles, Gavin peaks out from behind the desk to check if he’s alright.

Ryan’s side is covered in dust and shrapnel, but otherwise he looks relatively unharmed. He’s slightly hunched over though, gun and trigger on the ground, and his hands are hovering over his mask, as if trapped there, maybe in shock.

He starts removing his mask.

Every organ in Gavin’s body drops in to his gut.

He doesn’t stare though. He takes action. But it’s not at the door that he aims first. He points his pistol over at the camera and pulls the trigger. The bullet pierces the lens, destroying the feed.

Gavin hears his transciever come on, hears Geoff’s panicked voice saying something about how they better not be sucking dicks on the job, but he ignores it, turning and releasing two rounds in to the man passing through the door frame. No one follows, but moans of pain are audible from one or two that are probably in too much agony to reach for their radios to call for backup. That doesn’t matter. The explosions will have attracted anyone else in the building.

Adrenaline pumping, Gavin stands, looks back at Ryan, and stops again.

The mask is now resting on the ground next to the pistol, and rather than looking at the skull Gavin is so used to seeing, he’s staring at the side of a face—at sand-brown hair that looks like it hasn’t gone with a cut in a while; a pale cheek with three long scars like nail imprints running into the scruff of a jawline; slight bags under eyes that suggest fitful sleep; clenched teeth as gloved fingers pull out a heated piece of shrapnel embedded a third of an inch in to his skin, just under his eyelid.

Gavin stares like he’s seen a ghost.

It only takes another moment for Ryan to pull the shard from his skin. Barely any blood trickles from the wound as the heat from the material cauterizes it somewhat. He drops it, and he looks at Gavin. _Looks_ at him. Whatever dread Gavin had gotten out of that look before now hits him full force. He thinks he feels his heart being torn raw from his chest.

Ryan looks away. “We should get going,” he says, and something about seeing a mouth moving with Ryan’s words when he’s so used to seeing a mask lacking animation feels surreal to Gavin. The first thing he grabs is his mask. He slides it back on and grabs his pistol and the trigger, shoving the latter in to his jean pocket.

“Right,” Gavin says. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth.

Seeing someone’s face shouldn’t be this dramatic, but somehow with Ryan it is. There is no evident reason as to why he wears the mask; no sudden epiphany that reveals all the answers. What the experience leaves is a haunting heaviness that lingers in Gavin’s bones. He feels like he’s breached a line—a line that defines who will be putting the final bullet in his back.

Ryan pauses in his move towards the door and looks at Gavin one more time. Looks at him, glances at the broken camera, then back at him again. A second later, he continues without a word.

Gavin’s eyes trail after him, swallowing heavy, but he too glances back at the camera, brow furrowing beneath his mask.

He thinks, maybe, he was trying to thank him.

——————————

After the rest of the operation is executed with flying colours—despite the multiple explosions—the Crew returns to their hideout for a quick debriefing. There isn’t much to be said; they take stock of their remaining ammo and weaponry, show off the hard drive that is the result of their work, and go over how to proceed.

Ryan is quiet.

Near the end of their meeting, Gavin feels eyes on him, and though he’s sure he knows who they belong to, he looks anyway. But Ryan, rather than maintaining eye contact as he is so prone to do, glances away.

There is something in that instance that Gavin swears he catches.

Fear.

——————————

The next time the Crew meets, there is face paint beneath Ryan’s mask.


End file.
